That type of person never gets a work release. They are in Supermax and only see the daylight for a very short time each day.
Actually we used to use prison work crews for moving and modular furniture installations. They all were well supervised and actually enjoyed getting out and doing something in the public. Of course one little slip and theyād be pulled off the crew and back in their dorm rooms. You got to know some of the guys a little and just had to hope that when they got out, they made more acceptable choices. Now the guys in the local jail are a whole different group of people from my perspective. Drugs, guns, knives, and violence.
Like some of you others I feel I have become quite callous. All too often the person asking for help is the victim of his/her own self indulgence and laziness or looking for an easy score. Itās a shame that the truly desperate and deserving are overlooked due to competition from the freeloaders and crooks.
Ok, Iāll offer up this true story about a positive experience. Years ago my mother was taking her niece to the doctor, to a bigger city about 50 miles away. Good wide, paved, roads, but mountainous. Driving in the dead of winter nearing the end of daylight in a big snow storm and she got a flat on a fairly steep uphill section, so she pulled to the side of the road. She had no way to change the tire herself. And no cell phones then.
Cars whizzing by at a fairly good clip, splashing slush, despite the snow covered road. Within just a few minutes someone stopped and offered assistance. He said heād be happy to change the tire for her. So he did. In his business coat and suit, no hat. Unfortunately, probably due to the poor visibility and slush being splashed on his eyeglasses, he changed the wrong tire, the flat tire on the vehicle was still flat. So with no complaints, he jacked up the car and reversed the first change, and changed the correct tire. When offered some money, he cleaned his glasses of the dirt and slush and said āglad to help, have a safe tripā.
I live in between Milwaukee and Madison in a very rural area and rarely get into the larger cities.
In the larger cities, I will never offer help for fear that itās only a ruse to get someone that they can robā¦or worse. Iāll call the police for you, but I never leave the safety of my car.
I hear way too many violent stories to trust anyone in the city.
In the rural areas Iāll give you a jump start with my jump pack, put the spare on your flat, give you a ride and maybe even fix your problem on the side of the road.
Twice Iāve even offered to haul an item that a person bought at the Walmart, but it didnāt fit in their carā¦and went out of my way to deliver it.
I always feel sorry for those with problems and Iāve got too big a heart to just leave them stranded, even though Iāve regretted it a few times when it took more than just a hour of my time.
I always refuse any money unless they forcefully put it in my shirt pocket.
I normally just tell them to āpay it forwardā.
Yosemite
Iām certain that there are a great many deserving people who find themselves in desperate situations these days just as in the past and I hope they are lucky enough that a good Samaritan happens along to help them. When I was younger, ten feet all and bullet proof, it never occured to me to worry about someone hitting me over the head while I attempted to jump start their car but in recent years I have realized that itās better to play it safe. āIt was the best of times. It was the worst of times,ā was written several years ago and is again true.
I have been the recipient of blessed help four times.
In college I was dumb enough to let my gas peg on empty and had to stop for gas at a truck stop late one night returning to school from visiting my aunt. A creep cornered me at the gas pump propositioning me. Before I could hit him with the pump nozzle to stop him grabbing at me the biggest man I have ever seen came out of his truck cab and told me to go inside. Two more truckers met me at the door and told me to sit in the cafe away from the window. Waitress brought me a soda and wouldnāt let me pay. Couple minutes later I was told it was time to pay for my gas, which I did, and was escorted by two truckers back to my car. I did not see what happened while I was Inside. The first, big trucker and the two escorts stood there while the creep profusely apologized, looking terrified and downright green around the gills. Then I was bid by the truckers go straight home and that I did not need worry about being followed. Never have run the gas that empty again (except once due to a stuck float causing the guage to show half a tank when the tank ran dry.)
Few years later I was traveling between St. Louis and Tulsa with my cat along in the car. Turns out I had a bad tank of gas that clogged the fuel filter such I barely limped into Lebanon MO chugging at barely 20 mph on the shoulder of I-44 the last mile and into the Amaco station at the exit. I had visions of being stranded or bankrupted getting back on the road. I figured either Dad in St. Louis or brother in Tulsa would have to come rescue me. But the mechanic at the station changed out the fuel filter, drained the bad gas, filled the tank with good gas for the price of the gas and $6 for the filter. He pried the filter apart and it was clogged with water and debris which also showed in the drained gas. I was blessed to be treated fairly. Cat didnāt like the ride up and down on the car lift though.
Few years later, still same car, '73 Corolla, developed charging trouble on a trip from St. Louis up to Green Bay. Limped into Joliet, called Dad back home who told me get a motel room overnight and go to Toyota dealer in the morning. He would come get me if need be. First thing next morning the dealer shop was able to rig a temporary work around. It would take about ten days to get a replacement part so they arranged for the dealer back home to have the part when I got back home. I was safe to go as long as I didnāt use the after market a/c. So I made the rest of the August trip sans cool air. But again I was blessed to be treated fairly. And my car never did have such a thorough going over checking oil, tires, brakes, radiator, etc. and at no charge for that part of it. I not only thanked them but I know my dad did too.
Fourth blessed help is funny in retrospect but wasnāt at the time. I had flown to St. Louis for a family emergency and then rented a car to drive back to Tulsa. The rental was the first FWD car I had driven. Well, the verdemdt car horn kept coming on by itself and staying stuck for a few minutes while I frantically pounded on the horn button until it stopped. Finally it just stayed stuck blaring non-stop. A dash light lit up indicating low battery, so I knew the horn was pulling juice faster than the alternator could keep up recharging the battery. Pulled off at the first exit after this started. It was in the middle of nowhere with no services, only a sign showing the nearest town miles away. Left the car running at the end of the ramp so at least some recharging of the battery continued, raised the hood and found myself looking at a the first fuel injected, transverse mounted engine I had ever seen with no clue where the horn was located. And the horn was so loud I couldnāt find it by sound to pull the wires to it. Finally I was literally jumping up and down in frustration, shaking my fists and yelling unladylike language in frustration. I didnāt even notice at first when a farm couple drove up and stopped. The wife stayed in their truck while the gentleman approached cautiously. I can only imagine what a crazy girl I must have looked. He found the horn wires but couldnāt pull them. He had no wire cutter but did have a fence cutter. Seeing the tip of a big fence cutter snipping the wires was comical. I thanked the couple for stopping to help me and apologized for the tantrum I had been throwing when they drove up. The lady smiled and said it was okay, she hadnāt seen a Goldie Hawn movie in awhile. I made it the rest of the trip home safely. When the rental company tried to ding me for the cut wires to the horn my brother suggested they didnāt really want to go there.
I remain profoundly grateful these many years later for men who helped me and kept me safe (and my cat that one time).
Beggars in Mexico City have a union. Seriously,
At one time I used to stop and help everyone. I routinely carry a small tool kit, code scanner, and a hardware box full of misc widgets to get out of a bind with.
Anymore, I seldom do this unless itās a woman, kids involved, elderly couple, etc. Thereās a lot of Froot Loops running around on the loose out there and while I often carry a gun, I still have no desire to get into a gun battle or shoot someone; even if the shooting was justified.
Many years ago a traveling Air Force NCO from Texas, his wife, and 12 year old son were murdered on the side of I-35 south of OK City when they stopped to help a woman with car trouble. She was not aloneā¦
In the news last week, a 14 year old girl was in a plane crash in the mountains, her step grandparents were killed, she hiked for 3 days to find a highway and no one would stop to help her. It was near a popular state park and a couple of hikers came by and got her to a place to call for an ambulance.
I probably told this before but we can see I 35 from our house. Some years ago about 10 at night there was a knock on the door by a young girl. She said she was heading to the next town south about ten miles and ran out of gas and did I have any? I said no I had just emptied the can for the mower but I would go and get gas and meet her out on the highway. I felt a little guilty about making her walk back to the car over the field and ditches but still. I had about $400 in my bill fold so I did at least hide that, found her car, and put the gas in. While we were trying to get the car started again, a guy in the back seat started to wake up and wonder what was going on. The car started, she took off, I went home wondering how stupid I was. Nothing happened though but I never got any of the $10 back that she said she would send me.
Had a most wonderful rescue, payback for all my previous good deeds I think. Motorcycle tour from southern Ill to Red River in Ohio, picking up buds girlfriend and her sister in Lexington KY. Had a nice tour but on the way back, blowout on rear tire, and had new tires for the trip. A rubber pad had been folded over on the rimlock and caused the tube blowout.
Now this blowout happened at 65 mph, I had told her no matter what happens just be consistant. Poom, by the time down to 35 mph tire was flopping from one side of the rim to the other. I would have bailed if solo, but we came to a safe stop. An Alderman in Knoxville, and lover of british bikes saw us along side the road. āI have a towing company that owes me a few favorsā The company towed out a pickup, loaded the bike in back and towed us to some friends in Knoxville. No Charge!
Labor day weekend, spent listening to the band weather report, in house, band members appreciating their style and attempting to carry on in their tradition, hanging out till a shop opened for repairs. I was a good deed doer at the time and times since, gave neighbors down on their luck free electricity via extension cord and invited them over for many dinners. Maybe a few good credits left, but I am pickier and choosier who I decide to hep.
Be careful,some beasts,misconstrue kindness as weakness.
I think we have a scammersā union in our community. The small church I attend has a program to assist people with prescriptions, rent and utilities. The Scammersā Local #302 got the word out and it became very difficult to determine who had legitimate needs and who was a scammer. We now have an alliance of local churches to which the funds from our church are sent and the experiencd staff of this alliance determines which requests are legitimate and also can direct those in need to other agencies that provide assistance with certain types of needs.
Its a shame that the deadbeats ruin the chances of the truly needy getting help(I think thats called fraud and punishable by law-hopefully)
In Minneapolis they actually have informal assigned corners and shifts. So youāll see the same guy there day after day or a different guy at night. I hear they clear $50K plus a year tax free of course.
This is why I seldom give anyone a dime and the family of that woman is lying when claiming she has a panhandling permit. There is no such thing in OK City.
There was another one in the same area who was driving a near new Benz and pulling the broke, need food but what I really want is cold cash BS.
Thereās some bearded oaf in that same area whom Iāve seen on and off for 10 years. His premise is the same now as then; āHomeless. Will work for food.ā. The sucker pool is deep because people will continue to hand money out the window and not refer him to a job which he would decline anyway.
Itās a popular area. Very heavy traffic in every direction at all times and adjacent to Quail Springs Mall in a more upscale part of town so the cash flow is there so to speak.
āBeggars in Mexico City have a union.ā
I believe it!
Many years ago, when I was in Mexico City, I would see the same sad-looking young woman (with an infant) begging near my hotel every day. On the third or fourth day, I just happened to be exiting the hotel when she was picked-up by a guy driving a Lincoln Town Car. I noted the time of day, and decided to place myself outside the hotel at the same time the next day, andāyup!āshe was picked-up by the same car.
After mentioning this to a staff member at the hotel, I was informed that there were organized groups of young women working for guys who employed them as beggars. So, I guess that the next step was for the women to unionize!